


Ours

by waywardwriter



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-18
Updated: 2015-10-18
Packaged: 2018-04-26 18:00:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5014573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/waywardwriter/pseuds/waywardwriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Destiel!AU inspired by Taylor Swift's Ours music video.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ours

 

“The stakes are high, the water’s rough

But this love is ours.”

– Taylor Swift

 

* * *

  

Dean Winchester was going to work in his running shoes because he didn’t give a fuck. Out of all the days that he could have had a shitty day, it was today. Of course. That’s just how his life worked. First off, he slept through all four of his alarms (a feat he had not accomplished since high school), the water stopped running in the middle of his shower, and his rental Prius wouldn’t start. Then, he was forced to run several blocks to the Sandover Bridge & Iron building, hence the sneakers, in order to have a  _chance_ of being on time. And so what, if people whispered behind his back and gave him confused stares? It was at the back of his priority list.

He arrived just two minutes shy of being late. As the elevator door shut, Dean bent down and heaved, trying to take in as much air his weak ass lungs could handle. Damn, he should really start hitting the gym. God knew how many times Sammy nagged him about being fit and staying active and a bunch of other hippy shit.

A cough broke Dean’s chain of thought and he looked to the source of the sound. A wrinkly old lady was giving him the stink eye, undoubtedly because he smelled like sweat, and was taking up three quarters of the tiny space when there were already eight people inside excluding himself. Dean tried for a winning apologetic smile, but got a frown and furrowed eyebrows in return. Just great. By the look on her face, she was going to file a complaint on his “improper” behaviour.

Soon enough, the elevator reached the thirteenth floor. And although Dean was the one closest to the doors, everyone somehow managed to push their way past him. He gave a long sigh and checked his watch. Yup, it was still Monday. Fuck his life.

Dean slowly made his way to his beloved cubicle, giving small nods to the others that waved or mumbled a hello. At least the people on his floor weren’t so bad. Half of them were younger than forty, had a full head of hair, and felt as miserable as he did. Honestly, the most exciting thing that ever happened in Sandover during Dean’s time here was when some guy managed to cause a mini explosion and broke the microwave with a plastic fork. The laughs quickly turned into despair when people realized there was no other source to heat up their lunches without needing to go a block down to the less than appetizing food court.

Dean put his messenger bag on the ground and slumped into the spinny chair. He took a moment to stare at the dull grey walls before surveying his work area. Unlike most people, he never really got a kick out of personalizing it. Sure, there was a small cactus with a red flower on top (courtesy of some employee contest he won) and a ceramic cup that said, “I love my job!” given to him from everyone at the office for his birthday, but all in all, there wasn’t’ much to show and tell. Or that was what everyone else thought.

Subconsciously, Dean looked down at one of his drawers where he kept the majourity of his valuables. They were the things he looked at when he needed an energy boost or a distraction from work. Dean kept telling himself that work life should be completely separate of his private life…it was to bad he was a hypocrite.

After booting up his computer and shuffling around some paperwork, he began his long eight-hour shift.  _Stay positive_ , a small part of his brain thought.  _Just wait until tonight._

Before Dean could even come up with another thought, a redheaded whirlwind collapsed on his desk. “Dean! You’re finally here!”

“Hey, Charlie,” Dean greeted. Even if his job sucked, he knew that Charlie’s presence always made his days more interesting. “How’s it going?”

“Phase seven of Operation Princess Leila has officially commenced.” She handed him a container of French vanilla coffee beans. “When I cue you, just hand this to me and I’ll take care of the rest.”

“Wait, when did you complete phase six?” A couple months before Dean arrived at Sandover, Charlie harboured a crush on the company’s secretary, Gilda. When she realized that Dean had the potential of being her perfect handmaiden (her words, not his), she involved him in her elaborate twelve-step plan to capture Gilda’s heart.

“Last night when she texted me first, asking if I completed my paperwork.”

Dean snorted and entered his password when prompted by his computer. “That hardly counts, Charlie. You wrote specifically in the document that her text could not be work related.”

“Details, details,” she waved him off. “All that matters is that I know that she knows my number. Now, do you understand your mission?”

It was hard for Dean to keep a straight face. “Hand the can when you tell me to.”

Charlie clapped her hands together and beamed at him. “Excellent! She comes in at around half past ten so I better be ready by then.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he winked. 

Instead of wandering off to whatever computer hacking and arguably illegal assignment she was probably working on, she lingered around his desk. He raised an eyebrow in her direction, prompting her to speak.

“It’s today, right?” she squeaked, propping her elbows on his desk.

Dean immediately felt his ears burn. Schooling his expression, he responded a tense, “Yup.”

“Are you nervous?” 

“Yup.”

“Why? You seemed so excited a few weeks ago when you got the message.”

“I am excited!” Dean exclaimed before lowering his voice. “I don’t know, just a bit anxious I guess? What if something changed or…” he really didn’t want to finish that sentence. It already caused him endless sleepless nights. 

She gave him a  _you’re a dumbass_ look in response and straightened out. “Stop bullshitting yourself, Dean. Everything will be perfect, I know it.”

“Yeah, just perfect.” Dean mumbled to himself as he watched her skip away.

 

* * *

 

_“Dean, it’s not perfect!” Sam whined as he rearranged the basket of muffins._

_A new family recently moved into the neighbourhood and their mom – always the caring and loving one that put the whole family to shame– decided to whip up a batch of goods as a welcome gift. All that was left was for them to deliver it. And they would if Sammy stopped being a florist and allowed them out of the house._

_“Leave it, Sammy,” Dean snatched the woven basket from him. “Mom expected these to be gone half an hour ago.”_

_“Fine, fine,” he surrendered. “But if they end up hating us in the near future, I’m blaming it all on you.”_

_“Yeah, I’m cool with that.”_

_After a little more pushing and shoving, they managed to make it out of the door and across the street, muffins intact. A white moving truck was stationed in the driveway along with some cardboard boxes untouched along the steps.  The lawn looked like it had seen better days, but Dean had the feeling that this family would whip it back to shape in no time. People in their neighbourhood were like that._

_He firmly knocked three times and waited._  

_A woman dressed in business casual opened the door and smiled. “Hello, I’m Amelia! How can I help you?”_

_“Hi Ma’am,” Sammy started in his suck-up voice he usually saved for teachers. “We’re the Winchesters, from across the street? Our mom thought it would be nice to drop by some goods and to offer any help with moving in.”_

_Hold up. Sammy never said_ anything _about helping them move in._

_Amelia graciously took the basket and beckoned them inside. “Oh, that would be lovely! Come in, would you like any refreshments?”_

_When both boys politely declined, she rummaged around and pulled out a single glass cup for herself. As she filled it up with tap water, she turned her head and yelled, “Castiel, come down! Our new neighbours are here!” before turning back to them. “I’m so sorry, my son will be down in a moment.”_

_Dean raised an eyebrow to Sam. What kind of name is Castiel?_

_“You know,” Amelia lead the brothers to the island in the middle of the kitchen. Both sat down. “It’s so enlightening seeing such young faces being proactive in their community! We used to live in Illinois and half of the children there weren’t as sweet as you two! Now if you just engrain that into my son’s head, that would be a miracle… He’s going into third year, you see.”_

_“Dean is going into his junior year as well! Maybe they’ll be in the same class. I’m only four years younger than him.”_

_“Oh, that’s wonderful.”_

_The sounds of footsteps caused everyone in the kitchen to train their eyes on the teenager going down the steps. He rubbed his eyes, body clad with jeans and a simple black t-shirt that matched his messy hair. “What is it?”_

_“Come meet our new neighbours,” she repeated before asking, “What have you been doing upstairs?”_

_“Took a nap,” he blinked owlishly._

_Amelia crossed her arms, amused. “I thought you were cleaning your room.”_

_“I was until I put down the mattress. I lied down for a bit and then, well,” he shrugged._  

 _“Hey, Castiel!” Sam smiled and waved. “I’m Sam and this is my brother, Dean.”_  

_Dean nodded in Castiel’s direction. There was not much to say._

_“Hello, Sam. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”_

_And then he locked eyes with him. “Hello, Dean.”_

 

* * *

 

The lights flickered.

Dean took a sip of coffee and contemplated his life choices. Why had he even applied to work for Sandover in the first place? Okay, it wasn’t like he  _hated_ his job, it wasn’t the worst out there and Dean even had a respectable salary, but it wasn’t like he enjoyed it either. Maybe he felt obligated to use his degree in marketing (the major he choose by closing his eyes and pointing at a random spot on the university pamphlet), and to prove that he could be more than a mechanic if he wanted to.

During his years at Kansas University, Dean was employed at Singer’s Automobile Repair Shop. Growing up, his dad got him interested in repairing and fixing cars, though it really all started because of  _their_  car, a beautiful 1967 Chevrolet Impala. Well, it was now technically Dean’s car, but whatever. Not the point. When Bobby took Dean under his wing, he realized what a natural he was under the hood. Not only that, he felt at ease _,_  something he never felt during his lectures at school. 

Truth be told, Dean was perfectly content with staying at Bobby’s car repair shop and spending his time tuning up SUVs and restoring classic cars. But when he saw a job offer at Sandover that paid five times more than what he made at Bobby’s, well… That was life. Dean had to focus on the big picture. At least Dean dropped by Bobby’s once every week to help out.

The lights flickered again and Dean looked up wistfully. Employed for two years, and the lights have not failed him once.

“Dean?” 

He leaned back on his chair as Bela approached him. “Yeah? What can I do for you?”

She had a stack of paper in hand, drumming her hot pink manicured fingernails on top of the sheets. “I was wondering if you had time to do a simple print job for me? I swear it’ll only take a few minutes.”

Bela Talbot was his boss’ niece, so it wasn’t like Dean had a choice in declining. He forced a smile. “Sure thing, I don’t mind.” 

She thrust the stack of paper into Dean’s arms. “Thank you, darling! I just need 357 copies double sided using Legal sized ivory paper on my desk by the end of the day. Oh, and if you could laminate ten of the front covers? Those are for the executives.” 

“I’ll see what I can do, Bela.”

“By the end of the day!” She reminded as she tossed her hair back, strutting purposefully away. The clicking of her high heels was somehow audible on the carpet floors.

Dean quickly flipped through the fifty-page document that Bela gave him. It would take at least an hour and a half. A few minutes his ass. He swore that there were people in Sandover hired just for making photocopies and running around like slaves. Why should Dean do the dirty work?

He ambled over to the printer in the mailroom, took out the normal sized white paper, and shoved in the paper Bela requested. As soon as that was done, he loaded the master and pressed print. Dean watched the paper disappear into the machine and thought that perhaps it would take less time than he thought.

And of course, because this was  _Dean’s_ life he was talking about, that was the exact moment when a long beep rang out of the printer and a burst of white steam shot out from the side. The screen flashed red, wailing about a paper jam. 

Holding in a sigh, Dean got on his knees and opened the door that was prompted by the printer. A burst of hot air blew into his face and he coughed. The ivory paper was crumped at the far back and took a lot of maneuvering and swearing to yank it out. Dean slammed the door shut and pressed the green button. The screen flashed red again, signaling another paper jam.

Seven pieces of paper later, the printer began doing its damned job and Dean reminded himself to never invest in a printer. Stupid machines these days broke down more than they acted productive. They were loud and ineffective. And now Dean was starting to sound like an old man. The machine beeped again and he glanced warily at the screen.

Out of toner.

 _Well, there goes my morning,_  he thought remorsefully.

 

* * *

 

_Two encounters after Dean met Castiel Novak, he was positive that he had done something to personally offend the guy._

_The first encounter was before school started, The Novaks and Winchesters decided to have a barbeque together. It would be at the Novaks’ house, since they just moved in and all that, and Dean couldn’t say he was thrilled. His parents, however, didn’t feel the same way. His dad was excited to finally use their new grill and his mom matched his enthusiasm by pulling out her binder of recipes. Sam hoped they had a secret dog hiding behind the front porch._

_At the thought of his mom’s cooking, Dean popped his head in the kitchen, hoping to sneak a bite of whatever she was making. He immediately retreated to the living room and groaned. His parents were smacking dish towels at each other again and laughing, as if they weren’t mature adults who had two children. Honestly, Dean wouldn’t be surprised if his parents fulfilled almost every domestic family cliché out there._

_Although Dean would never admit it out loud, it was kinda nice._

_His stomach growled and Dean got up from the couch he was lying on to chance another look into the kitchen. And when he saw them swaying together near the sink, Dean rolled his eyes, threw his hands into the air and went to his room. He changed his mind; domestic family clichés were sickening._

_Late afternoon, the Winchesters gathered in the Novaks’ backyard. It was still pretty bare; the backyard consisted of a small field of grass and a sad looking shed near the corner. While his parents and Mr. Novak were in the kitchen preparing food, Sam was busy blabbing to Amelia, who seemed completely enamored by this “future of our generation” specimen of a teenager. Funny how Amelia never talked to Dean with such admiration._

_“Honey,” Dean turned around to see his mom approaching. “Dinner’s almost ready. Why don’t you go get Castiel from his bedroom and bring him downstairs? His mom called for him a few times but got no response.”_

_Dean was kinda wary at the prospects of talking to Castiel – the guy gave him the stink eye ever since they met – but bounded up the stairs anyways. Two doors down the right, he faced the only closed door._

_He knocked and waited._

_No response._  

_“Castiel?” He asked, and knocked again, harder this time. “Your mom’s asking you to come down. It’s time to eat.”_

_Dean thought he heard some shuffling and tried to lean in closer._

_“I, uh, heard that she makes a mean casserole?” God, what was this guy’s problem. Why was he forcing Dean to stand outside his door like some desperate girlfriend? “Cas? Are you even there?”_

_The door swung open so violently it sent a gush of wind in his direction. Castiel had on a simple black t-shirt and dark blue jeans. His hair was mussed, as if he was sleeping moments before. Actually, Dean wouldn’t be surprised if he was. “My name is_  Castiel _, not Cas. Can you not tell that this door is closed?” Cas was probably a grumpy morning person as well._

_Dean fought the urge of curling his hands into fists. “Yes, I see that,” he said patiently, pushing down his annoyance. “But it’s time for dinner so you should come down.”_

_He waved his hand, completely dismissing Dean’s presence. “Sure, in a bit. I’ll be down in five.”_

_“What’s so important?”_

_“It’s none of your business,” Castiel bit out._

_Unease settled in Dean’s stomach at being treated so poorly. He crossed his arms. “Alright, I’ll just sit in front of your door and wait then.”_

_Castiel narrowed his eyes and slammed the door in his face. Well then, it was time to get comfortable. He slid down onto the floor and waited. Maybe Cas wasn’t a people person? Dean understood that being the new kid or whatever sucked but that didn’t mean he deserved to be treated like shit. He thought he was a pretty nice guy, anyhow._

_Exactly five minutes later the door slowly creaked open and Cas stepped out. Dean peered up at the other teenager and was shocked at the transformation. The rigid posture he was holding deflated instantly. His shoulders hunched forward, his head was looking down, and he closed his door quietly. After the audible sound of a click, Cas leaned on the door and blew out a sigh._

_An awkward moment passed before Dean whispered, “We going yet?” and grimaced when Cas jumped back._

_His blue eyes were blown wide with surprise and disbelief, as if he couldn’t imagine why Dean of all people would actually keep his word and wait for him. Dean wasn’t sure if that impressed him or made him angrier._

_Seconds later, Cas regained his old composure and stomped down the stairs without a word. Dean had no idea what just happened, but promptly set it aside when his mom called him down to set the table._

_The second encounter occurred three weeks after school started. It all happened when Dean noticed that Cas always walked to school alone early in the morning. Dean hoped that when September rolled in, Cas would settle and be amiable and accept the fact that he should start making friends.  And you know, be a little bit nicer to him as well._

_He had never been so wrong in his life._

_On Monday, Dean woke up at 5:00AM and did his morning routine as stealthily as possible. He sneaked down the stairs and pulled out a few granola bars in lieu of eating a hot breakfast. When Dean was on his second bar, he saw Cas coming out and locking his door. Steeling himself, Dean left his house and walked towards him._

_“Hey Cas,” he greeted after choking down the last bit of his granola bar. A sharp piece of almond slide down is throat and he tried his best not to awkwardly pound his chest while gulping five liters of water._

_Cas stared at him and kept walking at a brisk pace. It was an unusually cool and windy day and the oversized beige trench coat he was wearing was flapping around like crazy. “Not. Cas.”_

_“Oh right, Castiel. Gotcha.” Silence. “So how’d you like it in Lawrence so far?”_

_He looked at Dean briefly before staring at the pavement in front of him. “Excuse me?”_

_Dean cleared his throat. “I, uh, asked if you liked Lawrence.”_

_Castiel tilted his head and shoved his hands in the pockets of his jacket. “It’s alright,” he said at last._

_“Better that Pontiac?”_  

_The dark haired boy adjusted his backpack and shifted his eyes towards the ground before responding. “How’d you know about that?”_

_“Your mom mentioned it when we came over, uh, sorry?”_

_“It’s fine.” His sentences were always clipped. Short. To the point. Maybe Cas – no, Castiel – was always like that. It wasn’t him to judge or anything. Dean only wanted to be civil with him._

_Dean decided to try one more time before he gave up hope. “What’s your favourite colour?”_

_“Green.”_

_And, we’re back to one-worded answers. “Oh, that’s great. I like blue.”_

_Castiel stared at Dean. Dean stared at Cas.  It took a moment for Dean to realize that the blue he was thinking about when he answered was the exact shade of Cas’ eyes and um, wait. What?_

_When Cas opened his mouth, something immediately changed in his expression. It was hard for Dean to describe, but he didn’t look on edge anymore. In fact, he looked thoughtful._

_A car honked and skidded to a stop. “Watch where you’re going!” A bald man shouted out his window. Dean flinched and unconsciously grabbed onto Cas’ shoulder to pull him back. They were crossing the street and didn’t even realize the car was coming towards them._

_Cas yanked his shoulder back, that expression of_ I will smite you _was back in full force. “Be more careful next time.”_

_Dean stood in the middle of the street and watched Castiel start jogging towards the school, leaving him behind._

_Ever since that day, Dean left Cas alone. He wasn’t worth it._  

_Days rolled by, Dean avoided Cas at school at all cost, he did well in all his classes, and the days couldn’t have been more boring. All his friends were fretting about university applications and didn’t have time to hang out. It kinda bummed Dean out, but it acted as a reminder that maybe he should consider applying for a college or something._

_He didn’t know what he wanted to do with his life. There were so many options (or so many roads of opportunities, as his guidance counsellor said) and for the life of him, he couldn’t decide. Dean liked cars because his dad taught him to appreciate their beauty. He liked baking because it helped him relax and reminded him of good times with the family. He liked business because it allowed him to see something expand and grow and feel proud of his success. How on earth was he going to find something he wanted to do for almost thirty to forty years?_

_Wait, why was Dean so wrapped up in his future career when he hadn’t even graduated high school yet? Crap! Was there any calculus homework he didn’t finish? His teacher handed out booklets to complete before school started and Dean promised his mom that he would finish all his work before Christmas so they could all relax and have a stress free holiday._

_A knock on the door interrupted his chain of thought. “Come in,” he said and closed the book lying on his desk._

_It was Sam. “Hey Dean,” he plopped onto his bed. “Just a reminder to clean the house before the Novaks come here for early Christmas dinner. You know how Dad gets about looking presentable to guests.”_  

_Dean rolled his eyes. “Oh trust me, I know. Is Cas…tiel coming too?”_

_Sam frowned at his question. “Duh, his name is Castiel_ Novak _. It implies that he is a Novak. And I know that you don’t like him but – ”_

_“I don’t like him?” Dean asked, incredulous. “He’s the one that wants to gut me and throw me into a ditch, Sammy.”_

_“If this is any consolation, I don’t think Castiel likes anyone. Just retract the claws and keep smiling and nodding whenever he makes a jab or something. ” Sam patted his shoulder and got up from the bed. “Just be you and charm his pants off like what you do with everyone. He’ll come around eventually,”_

_“Yeah, sure,” Dean mumbled absentmindedly before the words sunk in. “Wait, what do you mean charm his…” but Sam was gone._

_Ugh. Dean almost forgot about their dinner. Screw neighbours that decided to follow his cliché domestic parents’ holiday plans. And especially screw a certain dark haired guy who somehow believed that Dean kicked every dog in the world._

_What did Cas see in him that was so bad? Almost every night (okay, every night), he went through every conversation they had ever had and tried to  see what mistakes he could have made. And when he found something, it was so stupid that didn’t even deserve a glare for. Everyone dropped food onto the ground and ate it right? The five-second rule was still in place right?_

_Right?_

_“Dean, I don’t see you contributing to this household!” His father shouted from downstairs. He sighed, trying to remember the last time he vacuumed the living room floor._

_By the time the Novaks rang the doorbell, Dean had scrubbed the kitchen tiles, dusted and wiped every surface and picture frame they had in their home, sanitized the bathroom, and managed to polish Sam’s math competition trophies until they shined. Sam tried to help, but he kept tipping things over and being a nuisance. Dean’s solution was to lock him in the bathroom. After a half hour of banging and “You’re just jealous because I’m going to be taller than you!”, Dean finally unlocked the door at his parent’s request. It wouldn’t sit well with them if the Novaks came into a house of_ _screaming boys._

_Dean was in the middle of putting away the mop when he heard his parents chattering with Amelia and her husband. What was his name again? James or a nickname of that. Yeah, probably._

_Dean flattened out his shirt and tried to comb his hair back into place. The sooner he greeted the Novaks and avoided Cas’ stares he could bound upstairs and not come down until dinner.  He flashed his best smile and came into the living room. “Hi Mrs. and Mr. Novak! Merry Christmas!”_  

_“Happy holidays to you too, Sam!” Amelia grinned as Sam came forward, purposefully pushing passed Dean to give her a hug. Of course she said hi to Sam. He was her favourite, after all._

_Mr. Novak just nodded. Dean noticed that he kept shifting around and adjusting his tie. He seemed uncomfortable wearing a button down and slacks. Which is odd, since ninety percent of adulthood consisted of wearing boring business casual clothing. Or maybe he was like Dean and disliked socializing. “Jimmy,” Amelia called to him. “Don’t you just love how organized their home is?”_

_“That’s actually all thanks to Dean,” his mom interjected and placed two hands on his shoulder. She gave him a small peck to his head. “And also my husband for nagging him to do chores.”_

_“Maybe I should start bothering Castiel to do some housework,” Jimmy mussed and looked at his son sitting on the couch. “How does that sound, son?”_

_All Cas did was stare at the flower arrangement on the coffee table. “No thank you, father. I prefer wasting my life away in my room.”_

_“Okay, why don’t we start setting the table?” Mary all but shouted enthusiastically._

_“Dinner is almost ready. Amelia, John, Sammy, care to help me dice some potatoes?”_

_Amelia eyed Castiel before smiling at Mary. “Yes, I’ll lend a hand. I should also heat up the rotisserie chicken that we brought along too.”_

_Everyone left the living room except for Cas, his dad, and himself. This was a bit awkward. “I have to use the bathroom,” Dean announced and climbed up the stairs. Once his feet couldn’t be seen, he crouched down on one of the steps and leaned forward to catch some whispering._

_“–Was unacceptable, Castiel. You will apologize at once.”_

_“All I did was tell the truth. You want me to apologize for honesty?”_

_Dean heard a grunt of disapproval loud footsteps pacing back and forth on the hardwood floor. He winced at the image of footprints all over his newly cleaned floors._

_“I do not understand your behaviour. This is not the sweet boy your mother and I raised. You were nothing but gracious and polite during our stay at Pontiac._  

_“Why should I even bother to act happy when we’re moving in less than a month? It’s not worth it. Making friends isn’t worth it.”_

_A sigh. “I told you, Castiel. I’m done okay? No more moving around. Once I finish helping Chuck with his assignment, I’m retiring for good and getting a desk job. I’m done. I promise you.”_

_Castiel scoffed. “You say that every time, father. Don’t give me empty promises.”_

_“Be reasonable, Castiel. I have my duties. I serve my country.”_

_“Your duty belongs to your_ family _. Everyone else is already serving the country, you’ve been doing it since I was born. You don’t need to anymore.”_

_More stomping. “Come back, Castiel!”_

_And…now it was time for Dean to lock himself in his room. Holy shit, did Mr. Novak work for the military? Well, it would explain a lot about Cas for sure. Who knew how many times he had to change schools and live in random cities while his dad worked? His guess was one too many times._

_Where is he right now? Dean’s house wasn’t that big so there weren’t many places that he could go. He definitely wasn’t upstairs. He couldn’t leave the house; Dean didn’t believe that Cas would be the type to completely skip out on dinner. Wait, what is Dean doing? Was he actually going to look for Cas? They weren’t really getting along and Cas sounded pretty pissed off. Would he even welcome his company? Dean didn’t want to add fuel to the fire._

_In fact, Dean had every reason to not care about Cas. He could just ignore everything that had happened and go down to offer his mom or dad some help. But something was pulling at Dean to check up on the guy. It was hard to describe the feeling, but after a minute of dwelling on what to do, he got out of bed and went looking for the blue-eyed boy._

_First, he peeked into every bathroom. Then, he checked the basement. With no luck, he decided to go to the backyard. He’d decided against asking his mom if she’s seen Cas. She knew that Dean wasn’t a big fan of him and would know something was up if Dean was actively seeking him out. He crept past the kitchen and went down a hallway to reach a glass door._

_He leaned close to the glass and peered through it, cupping his palms around his eyes for a better view. Sure enough, someone was sitting on the grass. Dean stepped outside._

_“Leave me the fuck alone,” Cas grumbled and wiped his eyes with the back of his hand._

_Dean sidled forward, afraid that he would run away like a wounded animal. “I just want to see if you’re doing okay. I kinda overheard your conversation and sounds like it didn’t end well.”_  

_He turned around to face Dean. “Do I look like I’m okay to you?” He certainly didn’t look okay. Castiel’s eyes and face were red and puffy and his nose was slightly running. How long had he been crying?_

_“Yeah, not the smartest thing to ask.” Dean lowered himself to the ground beside Castiel. “I know you’re not okay. Want to talk about it?”_

_“No, I don’t want to talk about it,” Castiel snapped all of a sudden. He pushed Dean’s shoulder with his hands. “Why are you bothering me so much? You’re not even my friend. Get out of my face, I don’t want to see you!”_  

 _“What did I ever do to you?” Dean demanded. “I’ve tried to be nice to you since day one, and all I get in return is attitude.”_  

_“You heard what I said back there!” He yelled back. “I just –” Cas choked for a second and seemed to visibly calm down. Now his voice was quiet, completely opposite to how it was just moments ago. “I just don’t want to get hurt again.”_

_At Cas’ response, Dean reeled back his frustration. “How would you get hurt by making friends?”_  

_Cas refused to make eye contact and hugged his winter jacket around him. “Because every time I start getting comfortable, my father decides it’s a good idea to pick up another job and move. I try to keep in touch with people, but it always dies out and they forget about me. It’s easier to block everyone out and make them think I hate them.”_

_Dean felt relieved that it wasn’t him Cas was pissed at . They sat side by side without talking. When Cas’ sniffling died out, Dean managed to say, “It’s their loss.”_

_“What?” Cas croaked, voice hoarse._

_“The ones who forgot about you in your other schools. You seem like a cool guy, Cas. It’s their fault that they’re missing out.”_

_“How would you know?”_

_Dean grinned. “The infamous Winchester sixth sense.”_

_That got a small laugh out of him and Dean was happy that he made Cas feel a bit better. “I’m sorry for lashing out at you.”_

_Dean shrugged. “It’s all forgotten, dude. I honestly get it. At first, I thought it was something that I did and,”_

_Cas’ eyes widened. “You didn’t do anything wrong! I’m sorry you felt that way.”_

_He nudged Cas’ leg with his own. “Now I know what’s up. Don’t worry about it.”_

_Dean watched as Cas picked at his sleeve. His eyes flickered to Dean before looking away. “Could we, uh, start over?” He held out a hand._

_Dean took the hand and shook twice. He smiled. “Hey, I’m Dean. Welcome to Lawrence, Kansas.”_

_His eyes were bright from tears again, but Dean suspected that they weren’t from sadness. They looked hopeful. “Hello Dean,” was the reply. “My name is Castiel. But you can call me Cas.”_

 

* * *

 

Three hours. That was the amount of time Dean wasted on the damned printer before subtly placing a passive aggressive note on top of the power button. It seemed like whoever used it last left it with a billion problems. Excluding the million paper jams and twenty minute run to find some toner, it completely shut down an hour into the photocopying. Dean had to sneak into the seventh floor to finish the job, since it was the only other printer that was available for use.

When Dean came into Bela’s fancy office, she was lying on the couch eating a bag of trail mix. “Oh, hello Dean! Is there something you need?”

Dean rose up the large stack of paper. “Finished all the photocopying you needed. Where should I put it?”

“ _Those_?” She raised an eyebrow and got up from the leather couch. “Honey, we don’t need them anymore.”

It took a while for Dean’s brain to process those words. “Um, I’m sorry, but I thought I just heard you say that  _you don’t need them anymore.”_  

She looked way too smug for her own good. “I’m glad your hearing is on par, sweetheart. I already asked my personal assistant to do it for me a week ago.”

If Bela weren’t invincible, Dean would have chucked her out of the window or strangled her scrawny neck. Unfortunately, she had all the power in the world to make Dean’s life miserable so the worst he could do was mess up her coffee order or break her favourite golden pen. That’s as far as his evil plotting could go without potentially losing his job. Yeah, he’d do that tomorrow or something.

Dean forced his mouth to curl upwards. “Of course, I understand. I’ll just recycle these then. Sorry for interrupting you.”

“Ensure that you shred these photocopies by hand. Sandover is an advocate for confidentiality!”

“Of course , Bela. Have a nice day.” He turned the corner and dumped the papers in the recycle bin. Confidentiality, his ass. Dean was not going to be wasting anymore of his time.

And if he wasn’t already in a foul mood to begin with, seeing Benny in his cubicle didn’t make it any better. “Benny!” Dean barked. “What the hell are you doing here?”

He turned around and waved a yellow post-it note in greeting. Instantly, Dean’s blood turned cold. “Hey Deano, I was just going to ask if you wanted some coffee because an intern was going for a run, but then I saw  _this.”_ Benny doubled over cackling and Dean gritted his teeth. “Never knew you were such a sap!” 

“Give. Me. That.” Dean lunged for the note, but damn Benny and his height, he raised it in the air and out of Dean’s reach. And Dean wasn’t desperate enough to actually jump and get it.

“And in a relationship too? I thought you were single all this time!” He grinned and transferred the paper into his other hand, crumpling it in the process. 

“No!” Dean all but shouted, causing heads to poke up from their respective cubicles to watch the commotion. “Don’t be a jerk, man. Give it back,  _now_.”

By Dean’s tone and his  _I’m not fucking kidding_ look, Benny immediately returned it and raised his hands in surrender. “Sorry, brother, just playin’ around. I saw it on the floor by your chair and picked it up. No harm intended.”

Dean inspected the note. Thankfully, only the outer edges of the square were bent and wrinkled. The two lines scrawled on the surface were untouched. He wouldn’t have forgiven himself if it were ruined. “It’s…it’s fine, man.”

“You’re shaking, Dean. Is everything alright? I’m sorry.”

Was he going to…? Yes? No? Yes… and oh god here it comes. “Tour of duty.”

Benny was surprised. “Pardon?”

Dean rubbed his hands over his face, unsure of how to respond or explain the situation. He didn’t  _want_ to give any information about his personal life with the office in case of any backlash he might have received. The only reason why Charlie knew was because, as she claimed, her gaydar was “strong and pure”. Technically, Dean was bisexual but that was not the point. Could he trust Benny? Besides Charlie, he was probably his second closest friend at Sandover.

Dean looked him straight in the eyes. “We met in high school. He joined the armed forces and trained for two years before being deployed for two. I haven’t talked to him face to face since– ” To Dean’s embarrassment, his voice cracked and he choked down the cotton balls lodged in his throat.  _You will not cry, Dean Winchester_. “I don’t know what they do, but we can only talk on the phone. Maybe skype during the holidays, you know?”

Thank all the pie gods in the sky that Benny understood what he was getting at. He pointed at the note clutched in his hands. “And that was…”

Dean nodded cautiously. Benny had a great poker face. Dean had no idea what he was thinking and how he would take it. What if he started looking at him in disgust? Or laughed at his face and called him slurs?

Benny did none of that. Instead, he looked apologetic and stepped out of his office. “I really meant no harm, brother. I never knew it meant that great of a deal to you.”

“It’s fine,” Dean smiled at him, relieved. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to give him a hug or a fruit basket more. “We’ve made it four years and everything’s still working out.”

“Just letting you know, if he ever comes around and you got some spare time, my grill and backyard will always welcome you with open arms. I’d like to know more about you, Dean. You seem like a great guy.”

The immediate acceptance was a breath of fresh air and all of Bela’s torture from this morning slowly faded away. “You better get the grill ready, Benny,” Dean laughed. God, when was the last time he laughed? “He’s coming home tonight.”

 

* * *

 

_Ever since Cas opened up to him, Dean’s life couldn’t have been better. Junior year was behind him, he had a best friend, and he could finally start relaxing under the sun. There was so much that he wanted to do with Cas. When Dean realized that Cas had never experienced anything fun in his life, he was determined to change all that. The first thing on Dean’s list was a road trip to Chicago. The main reason was because Cas wanted to see a bunch of fancy art galleries and museums, but Dean didn’t really mind where he went as long as Cas was with him. They could always go somewhere else next time._

_The doorbell rang and Dean got up from the couch to open the door. He frowned at the object Cas was holding in his hands. “What the hell is_ that _?”_

_“A pillow pet,” Cas stated before pushing past Dean into his house._

_Dean followed him into the living room. “And pray tell me,_ why _do you own a bee pillow pet? Why is it in my house? It’s hideous.”_

_Cas glared at him and clutched the pillow to his chest. “This is for our movie night. If you don’t like it, you don’t have to look at it.”_

What a dork, _Dean thought before shoving some popcorn into the microwave. He already ordered pizza, but nothing like some buttery goodness to make the night even more fantastic._  

_It was exactly one year since the Novaks moved to Lawrence. With both their parents off to a community meeting and Sammy at a sleepover, they thought it would be a good idea to celebrate with a Lord of the Rings marathon._

_“You ready?” Dean asked him once they settled in._

_Cas grabbed a slice of vegetarian pizza from the box in the living room. He was the only person Dean was willing to purchase vegetarian pizza for. “Just press play, Dean.”_

_Halfway through the movie, they got cold so Dean draped a blanket over the both of them. The film was good, but for some reason, Dean couldn’t focus anymore. All he could do was concentrate on the heat Cas was radiating beside him and think about how comfortable it was. A few minutes later, Cas shuffled over to lean his head on Dean’s shoulder. Naturally, he tilted his head so it touched Cas’._

_“Hey Cas,”_  

_He looked up at Dean. “Yes?”_

_“Have you, ugh, ever dated anyone before?” Okay, obviously his brain wasn’t communicating with his mouth right now. Where the fuck did that question come from?_

_He considered Dean’s question. “I don’t believe I have. What about you?”_  

_“Nah, I’ve never met someone that caught my eye. At least, not until now.” Dean didn’t realize what came out of his mouth before it was too late. At first, Dean was confused. What did he mean by “until now”? He didn’t like anyone. The only person he ever thought about was…_

_And then it hit him._

_He_ liked _Castiel Novak. Castiel. His best friend. Cas._

_Oh god._

_“Until now? You didn’t tell me you were interested in someone.” It almost sounded like an accusation._

_“I, uh,” Dean’s pathetic brain scrambled for an answer. “It never came up?”_

_Cas stilled and got up from the couch. “I see.” The cold air that replaced Cas’ warmth was unsettling. Dean felt empty and lonely and all he needed right now was Cas to come back. He watched him walk two steps away from the couch before he grabbed onto Cas’ shirt, dragging him back until he almost stumbled onto Dean’s lap._

_“Dean!” He yelped. “What are you doing?”_

_Dean put a hand up and hastily wiped the corner of Cas’ mouth with a tissue. “Uh, you had something on your face.” Dean wasn’t sure who was blushing more. Probably him. He didn’t mean to literally pull Cas onto his lap…it just kinda fell that way. The fact that he had a big fat crush on him made it worse. How did Dean not notice how much he_ liked _him?_

_Cas didn’t move. “Thank you,”_

_The film continued playing in the background. Both continued to stare at one another._

_“Hey Cas?” He whispered. A surge of determination rose from his chest. If Cas wasn’t moving from his lap, that was a good thing, right? But should he do something now? What if Cas didn’t like him back? This was all moving so fast he couldn’t keep up._

_“Yes, Dean?” Cas looked nervous._

_“I like you,” he blurted out. Real smooth, Winchester. “Do you like me?”_

_Cas studied him. Dean prayed he couldn’t hear his heart pounding in his chest. “As a matter of fact, I do.” He wrapped a tentative hand behind Dean’s neck._  

_“Oh…that’s nice to hear,” Dean cringed at the poor word choice and cleared his throat. “Would you, uh, mind if I kissed you right now?”_

_There were no words to describe Cas’ expression. It was one mixed with awe, excitement, and a bunch of other adjectives he didn’t remember. Dean hoped Cas looked at him like that forever. “I wouldn’t mind at all.”_

 

* * *

 

Dean checked the time on the clock. Only three and a half hours left. Three and a half hours left before…well. He couldn’t contain the sly smile forming on his lips. With a couple taps on his computer, he saved his work and closed his presentation. He spent weeks working in advance so he really didn’t need to rush. Reaching into the locked drawer in his cubicle, he retrieved his USB and shoved it into the computer.

A window popped up and a list of dates appeared on the screen. Dean clicked one of them at random. Once the video was loading, he reached into his backpack and pulled out some headphones and slipped them on. 

“Dean, stop it!” Cas shrieked in the video.

Dean grinned and maximized the screen. It was the fall of their senior year. They were raking leaves in Dean’s backyard and he’d thought it would be a good idea to videotape them fooling around.

A bunch of leaves were thrown towards the camera. “Hey!” Dean in the video called out cheerfully. “Careful around the camera, it was expensive.” 

The camera swerved to Cas, who wearing one of Dean’s plaid shirts underneath his trench coat. Cas grinned and scooped up some more leaves with his hands. “I’ll be careful when you stop taking videos of me all the time.” He stuck out his tongue and threw the pile into the air, watching them fall.

Dean’s hand appeared on the screen and took one of Cas’ into his own. Their fingers intertwined. “I’ll only stop when you stop being so adorable,” he murmured. It was barely audible in the video. 

“Hmm, then I guess you’ll never stop.” Cas mussed.

“Good.” Dean in the video raised his hand so the camera could catch the both of them in the shot. Both their ears and noses were tinted pink from the cold.

“I loved you first, you know.” Cas whispered, staring at Dean.

“No, I loved  _you_ first. Especially when you were playing all hard to get and all last year.”

“Ugh,” Cas groaned and pushed the other boy away. “This is too cheesy, let’s stop.”

“But I thought you liked it when I was a sap!”

Just as they were leaning towards each other, Dean closed the video. Something about watching them together made his heart ache and want to explode at the same time.  _Longing_ , a voice in his head told him. 

Only three and a half hours left.

Dean pulled out the yellow post-it note from his pocket.

 **I loved you first** , Cas wrote in his elegant script.

And just below, was a sentence in Dean’s messy scrawl. 

**I loved you first.**

 

* * *

 

_Senior year was a whirlwind of assignments, tests, and university applications. So it really didn’t surprise Dean when woke up at seven on the first day of winter break. He tried to go back to sleep, but gave up after fifteen minutes of tossing and turning. He got out his phone and sent a quick message to Cas. Hopefully he was awake._

**_[Dean, 7:18AM]  
_**_Hey, you up?_  

 _No later than a minute, he got a reply._  

 **_[Cas, 7:19AM]  
_**_Yes I am. Good morning, Dean._  

 **_[Dean, 7:19AM]  
_** _Morning! Can I come over? Bored and want company :(_

 **_[Cas, 7:22AM]  
_** _Of course you can. My parents are gone all week._

_With that, Dean scrambled to brush his teeth and get dressed. Deciding to skip breakfast, he ran out the door and headed towards Cas’. Before he got a chance to knock on the door, it swung open._

_A sleepy Castiel with dishevelled hair greeted him with a kiss. “You do realize that it’s winter break,”_

_“Yeah, I know. Kinda forgot.”_

_Dean took the chance to steal another chaste kiss from Cas before heading towards the kitchen. “Did you eat breakfast yet?”_

_“I had a bagel,” he replied. “But feel free to make something for yourself. I know how much you love to bake.”_

_Cas wasn’t wrong; baking was one of his guilty pleasures. “Hmm, maybe I could try out a new croissant recipe today. Sound good?”_

_Hands circled around his waist. Cas’ chin rested on his shoulder. “Sounds wonderful. Thank you, Dean.”_

_Dean had a thought. “One day we should just open a bakery together. You can decorate the shop with your art and I can do all the baking.”_

_A gentle kiss was pressed between his shoulder blades. “But I thought you wanted to be a mechanic?”_

_“Honestly, I’m still not sure. I like both so much.”_

_Cas chucked behind him. “Why don’t we open a bakery mechanic shop? While they wait for their car to get fixed, they can go over to the other side of the place to buy some food and coffee.”_

_Dean turned around and scooped Cas into a hug. He couldn’t stop smiling. It was probably the craziest and most unconventional idea he had ever heard but he liked it. “You’re a genius.”_

_“I’m glad you just realized,” he retorted._

_“By the way,” Dean let go of him reluctantly. He should get started on the croissants. “You still haven’t returned my hoodie from last week.” He smirked as Castiel’s guilty face. Dean_ knew  _something was taken out of his closet a month ago._

_“What if I want to keep it forever?” Cas joked._

_“You can keep it,” A quick kiss. “But I just want to wear it right now. Your house is freezing.”_

_“Just grab it from my bag, I’ll finish rounding up your ingredients.”_

_Dean went over to his bag and rummaged around, trying to spot his hoodie. And just when he found it, a white package caught his eye. He knew that snooping around wasn’t a good thing but he couldn’t resist. An intricate crest was printed on the back and it was pretty heavy for it to be just a piece of paper. Was it from a university?_

_Cas was very secretive about where he was applying to and Dean knew that early acceptances started in December. Could this be it?  Checking to make sure that Cas was not around, Dean opened it. His eyes scanned over the formal letter but could not process the information he was reading._

_He stormed into the kitchen. “What the fuck is this, Cas?”_

_Cas looked at the envelope, no trace of emotion on his face. “You know exactly what it is.”_

_“I’m not an idiot,” he snapped and slammed the package onto the counter. “Can you tell me why you have a fucking acceptance letter from the US Air force in your bag?”_

_Cas’ face hardened and his hand tightened its hold on the spatula. “What’s it to you?”_

_“Why didn’t you tell me?” Dean wasn’t sure if he was frustrated or upset or if he wanted to lie down and cry._

_He huffed. “It’s not like I had a choice. Everyone in my family went. My dad wouldn’t accept anything else.”_

_“I know how much you hate listening to your family!”_

_“Just drop it, Dean. It’s done. You can’t do anything. I’ll be gone for a few years and send you some letters every few months.”_  

 _Dean suddenly lost all the anger inside of him. He leaned against the sink and took a deep breath. “Is that all I mean to you Cas? I’m just worth a_ letter _to you?”_

_“You’re the best thing that’s happened to me, Dean Winchester.” Cas crossed his arms and sighed. “But hardly anyone cares about me. To my family, I just one more thing to–”_

_“But we need you, Cas!” He interrupted. “Mom, dad, Sammy... We’re family.”_  

_Cas closed his eyes. “Dean.” A warning._

_“I need you.” And it was the truth. No matter how many times he said it, Cas had to know._

_“Dean. Please.”_

_“I love you. I care about you.”_

_“You do?” He looked incredulous._  

_Dean took a tentative step towards him. “Yeah, Cas. I really, really do.”_

_“It’s too late.” He muttered. “I already said yes. I’ll be leaving in August. Are you mad at me?”_

_“Never. It’ll work out.”_

_“You still want to stay with me? Even if I hardly get to see you?”_  

_Dean’s eyes softened at the other’s hopeful expression. “Of course. There’s nothing I’d rather do.”_

_Cas reached over and laced their fingers together. “I guess we’ll figure it out as we go.”_

_“Damn straight.”_

_And that was exactly what they did._

 

* * *

 

Sam picked up on the fourth ring. “Hey Dean! What’s up?”

“Hiya Sammy,” Dean responded as he backed out of the parking lot of Sandover. The moment his shift was over, Dean sprinted down to the basement floor where the staff parked. Charlie and Benny barely had time to wish him luck before Dean hightailed it out of there. “About to head for the airport. Just thought you’d like a heads up.”

Sam’s voice was a bit distorted on speaker but Dean refused to figure out how Bluetooth worked. “Oh, you’re picking him up right?”

“Yeah, he’s just about to land. Thought I’d get there early.”

There was some rustling and muted talking from Sam’s end of the line. He was probably still at school. “Sorry ‘bout that. It was Jess. Hope you know how much we wanted to be there for his arrival. We miss him so much!”

“Jess never met Cas before,” Dean pointed out. Sam started dating her about a year after Cas left. “But thanks anyways. We’ll have a gathering or something later this week when he’s settled in.” 

“You bet on it!” He promised before clearing his throat. “So, how are you feeling?”

Dean’s hand squeezed the steering wheel. “What do you mean? I’m feeling great.” 

“Really?” Sam asked in his  _I can see through your bullshit_ tone. “Don’t think I don’t remember nursing you back to health for a whole month after Cas left. You were a mess, man.” 

“That was then. This is now. The fact that he’s allowed to see me in person is a miracle, Sammy.”

His brother hummed. “Will you be prepared for when he leaves again? You mentioned that he’s only staying for a few days.” 

“Can we not think about that right now?” Dean swore under his breath when he accidentally ran a red light. The cars around him honked.

“Sure, sorry for bringing it up.” Sam apologized. He knew how touchy Dean got whenever he mentioned the words ‘Cas’ and ‘leave’. “Just know that it should be something you’re thinking about though.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Dean said, making a left turn. “I get it. Thanks though. I’m about to head on the highway so I’ll update you once he’s home, ‘kay?”

“Take care of him, Dean. And take care of yourself!”

Ugh, Dean hated it when he got all sentimental like that. “Will do, bitch. See ya later.” 

“Jerk.” He countered and hung up.

 

* * *

 

 _Dean waited patiently as the phone rang. The email that Dean received from Cas’ supervisor clearly stated to call five minutes before midnight. But here Dean was, calling five minutes before midnight, and Cas wasn’t picking up. Did he call the wrong number? Did Cas change his mind about talking to him?_

_Just as Dean was deciding whether or not to hang up and try again, the call went through. “Uriel speaking.”_

_Who the fuck was Uriel? “Hi,” Dean greeted, masking his confusion. “This is Dean Winchester. I was told to call this number in order to contact Castiel Novak.”_

_“Ah.”_

_“Ah?” Dean repeated._

_“Yes,” Uriel agreed before moving on. “Here are the rules: once I pass the phone to him, you have five minutes. Note that all calls are monitors in order to prevent any form of confidential information to leak out. You are not allowed to ask about his role, his whereabouts, or the objective of his mission. Do I make myself clear?”_

_He read that all in the email, but Dean didn’t point it out. The faster he got by Uriel, the faster he could talk to Cas. “Yes, sir.”_

_“Excellent. Your five minutes start now.”_

_Classical music played for a few seconds before a familiar voice came on the line. “Dean?”_

_And just like that, all the tension knotted in Dean’s spine disappeared. “Hey, Cas! How’s it going?”_

_“I’m doing fairly well considering everything. And you?”_

_“University life is not as glamorous as people say it is, but I’m managing. I found a way to fast track through all my courses so I can graduate in two years instead of four.”_

_“I’m so proud of you!” Cas exclaimed and Dean couldn’t help but preen. “And how is the family?”_

_Dean grinned. “Sammy still has straight A’s so he’s planning on going to Stanford for law.”_

_“Stanford,” Cas whistled. “He’ll do amazing. What about our parents?”_

_“John and Mary and your parents are same old, same old. Nothing really special happened over the past two years. How is it over there? You don’t have to be specific or anything, but just in general you know?”_

_“Hmm, it isn’t as bad as I thought it would be,” he said slowly. “I made a few acquaintances. I enjoy the mental and physical challenges.” A pause. “But whenever I try to sleep, I can’t because I miss home.”_

_Cas was probably frowning and Dean would trade anything to go over there and see him. “We miss you too, Cas.”_

_“I’m unable to make another phone call for a while. Eight months at least.”_

_“Oh?” But this was their first phone call in the past two years! How was that fair._

_“Don’t sound so disappointed,” Cas chided gently. “The moment I’m able to contact you, I will. You mean the world to me, Dean. I’ll take every opportunity I get to talk to you.”_

_Dean looked up at his ceiling and controlled his breathing. “Are you done your training?”_

_“Yes, I am.”_

_The confirmation meant that Cas was being deployed. The image of Cas lying on the ground in the middle of nowhere flashed in his mind but Dean quickly pushed it away. “Just…stay safe, you hear? I’ll kick your ass if you do anything stupid.”_

_Cas laughed. “I wouldn’t expect anything less.”_

_A long beep interrupted their conversation. “What was that?”_

_“It means that our time is up. I…” Cas trailed off, searching for words. “You know how I feel about you, Dean. Remember that.”_

_“I will.”_

_“And also, happy birthday.”_

_Dean could feel a blush crawling up his neck. “Thanks for remembering, Cas.”_

_“Please eat some pie for me.” Before Cas could utter another word, the link cut off._

* * *

 

Dean craned his neck, peeking over the large crowd gathering as close as possible to the glass in front of the doors. It slid open and his stomach dropped when it was only a brunette dragging a small suitcase behind her. Not him. He whipped his head to the right when he heard a small shriek but relaxed when he saw the little girl. He watched as she wobbled her way towards the woman, arms outstretched, until she picked her up and gave her a kiss. Soon after, a man came behind them and enveloped them into a hug.

He couldn’t help but smile, admiring the happy family. But something twisted inside his stomach. A small part of his brain whispered,  _that feeling is called longing, you little shit,_ but he did his best to ignore it. Dean was perfectly fine. He was actually so fine that he could go grab a coffee at some kiosk and come back. That was cool. He could have a small coffee as he waited. Or even see if they had a McDonalds open that still sold apple pie. 

And yet, his legs were still planted onto the floor.

The family he saw before began to leave. The woman held the small girl as the man slung an arm around her waist and dragged her suitcase along with his other hand. Dean watched them until they turned into tiny specks in the distance.

He checked his watch and adjusted the strap on his bulky knapsack. An hour late. His stomach was doing crazy flips and turns and Dean didn’t want to think why. He checked his watch again. An hour and a minute late. He actually didn’t want to think at all. Because what if something happened and Dean didn’t know about it. He would be waiting at the airport for hours and no one would show up and then he would be frantic and calling the government or the FBI or – 

It turned out he didn’t need to do any of that. Because the door opened again, and instead of a flight attendant, or a businessman, or any other passenger he didn’t care about,  _he_  walked into the terminal.

Him.  _Castiel._ His Cas.

But he didn’t see Dean.  _Go to him,_ his brain shouted.  _You’ve been waiting for months for this!_ And yet, not one single muscle in his body could move. Dean stood there, paralyzed, just taking in the sight before him.

 _He definitely has gotten bigger_ , Dean noted,  _a little taller even_. Strong, but lithe limbs were showing through the tanned camouflaged uniform. Dean did another quick scan of his body and was relieved that everything appeared intact. It was hard to believe that the man before him used to be the scrawny teenage boy he met so many years ago. Dean quickly swiped his eyes with the back of his hands. Cas wasn’t wearing a hat so his neatly cropped dark hair stood out against the white, spotless terminal station. It would take at least four months for it to grow to normal length. His hands twitched, missing the soft feel of dark hair between his fingers.

Cas’ eyebrows were furrowed in concentration. Dean could see him scan the crowd, row by row in a controlled professional manner.  _Is he trying to find me?_ He thought before he mentally slapping himself. Charlie was right. He was being a dumbass. Of course Cas was trying to find him. 

At that thought, Dean’s muscles found the power to push past all people standing in front of him. A couple barked their protests and complains but he paid them no mind. “Cas!” 

Electric blue eyes snapped up and made contact. The serious face Cas held was instantly replaced with a grin and he began to make his way towards Dean. Sweet lord of pie, having those eyes on him felt like coming home. The phone calls were no match for the real thing.

As they got closer, Cas walked at a faster pace. Dean had to resist breaking out to a full sprint and throw himself at the other man. His brain chanted nothing but  _Cas, Cas, Cas_ and this feeling of joy beat mom’s apple pie, it beat winning a million dollars, hell, it was more than the happiness he had ever felt with baby.

Through his peripheral vision, Dean saw strangers glance between the two men, curious. He would give them the finger so they would turn away, but he didn’t care. After all, it wasn’t everyday that people would see a pair like them: one completely dishevelled man with an untucked button-up and stained dress pants along with one confident looking man in a military uniform.

A millisecond before they reached one another, Cas dropped his duffel and Dean threw down his ratty old bag onto the ground.  The moment both men were free of their baggage, Dean flung his arms around Cas’ neck and held on as tight as he could, all the air expelling from his lungs. He dug his fingers into Cas’ shirt, bunching them up in his hands, and took in Cas’ unique smell of rain, mint, and cinnamon. Cas squeezed his torso in response.

“Hey Cas,” he whispered into the other man’s ear.

“Hello, Dean,” came the hush reply. It was the sweetest thing he’d heard all day. “Sorry I’m late. I had difficulties finding my luggage.”

“It’s fine,” Dean dismissed, shivering at the deep voice. He swore it got lower and lower each year. “But the parking ticket is going to be fucking expensive. It’s like they want to suck my wallet dry.”

Dean could  _feel_ Cas smiling against his shoulder. “I’ll pay for it.”

“You’ll pay for three quarters?” 

“Deal.”

They swayed back and forth for a bit, just soaking in each other’s presence.

“It’s really you,” Dean spoke fervently, tightening his hold around Cas’ neck.  _Don’t let go, never let go, please don’t leave again._ He couldn’t help but try to get closer. He was unable to believe how long he lasted without  _this._  This warmth, this stubbornness, this person with the most amazing dry humour, this love. God, did he miss Cas.

 _“_ Shh,” Cas cooed while bringing his hand to rake it through the other man’s hair. The gesture came so naturally to him and Dean squeezed his eyes shut again. He didn’t care if he felt weak and emotional when there was something definitely  _wet_ sliding down his face. He thanked whatever God there was that Sammy wasn’t there to videotape this. He’d never let it down. “I’m here. I’m here, Dean.”

His voice was soothing and calm and everything he needed on a Monday. Now everything was right. “Cas…”

“I know, baby. I’m back. I’m here for you.”

“You don’t even know – I never thought – I mean,” Aw, shit. Now he couldn’t even speak. And he was now embarrassing himself in public.  Everything was so good, and now he was going to break down.

Castiel’s eyes were rimmed red. It was evident that Dean wasn’t the only one that missed the other’s company. “I missed you so much.”

“I missed you too, Cas,” Dean pulled him forward so their nose brushed together a couple of times. He then reached behind him to take one of Cas’ hands, rubbing his thumb up and down the backside of the other’s hands. They were tougher, thick with callus, but they were where Dean’s belonged. “So much.”

“We’re together now,” Cas stated. “Permanently.” Shocked, Dean looked up. The blur in his vision obstructed his view of Cas’ face. He couldn’t see if his eyes were lying. But Dean was being ridiculous. Cas never lied to him. 

Dean loosened his hold. Enough so their foreheads were still touching along with the rest of their body. “What?” he asked meekly. Cas insisted that he could only stay for one week before going back.

The dark haired man smiled slyly. “Surprise? That was my last round. I’m retiring from the force. Frankly, I think I’ve had enough with someone dictating every decision in my life. Also, I miss real food. It doesn’t compare to what I could have at home.” 

“By real, you mean  _my_ cooking,” Dean teased and Cas laughed softly but didn’t deny it.

Cas tugged at Dean’s wrinkled shirt. “Job rough?”

“Tell me about it,” Dean groaned. “I have so many people to complain about once we get home. I hate it so much.” 

“Well, maybe it’s time for a career change. Unless you’ve changed your mind on our bakery mechanic hybrid shop?”

Dean’s heart swelled. Cas still remembered their conversation so many years ago. He still wanted to go through with it. “You’re really staying?”  _So we can finally move into a house together, start a shop together, own a fucking dog together, finally live our lives together…._  

“Yes,” Cas confirmed. And damn the confidence and promise in his voice that made Dean’s heart flutter and his head spin. “We’ll do anything you want. Just like I promised, right?”

“Right.”

They spent a few more seconds just gazing at each other. Castiel looked reverent. As if just being in front of Dean was the best thing in the world. It was a bunch of bullshit, because Dean couldn’t really see anything worth loving in him. The way Cas stared at him, however, could potentially be enough to change his mind. “You look so beautiful, Dean.” 

His ears turned red. Dean looked at the ground, refusing to make eye contact. “Damn it, Cas! You can’t say shit like that in public.”

“…Public?” His eyes widened. Looking around, he noticed the small circle that formed around them. Pink began to creep up his neck when he saw some people holding their phones up.

Dean didn’t give a rat’s ass that they were in the middle of an airport, and that a group of people had been staring at them the whole time. None of that really mattered. The man in front of him did and Dean would never forget it.

He brushed his thumb across Cas’ cheekbone, admiring his lover, before reeling him in. Their lips brushed together in a fleeting kiss. Modest, small, barely noticeable. And somehow, it left them both breathless.

Cas’ eyes hardened with want as he placed a hand on Dean’s lower back. “Let’s get out of here.”

  

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for taking the time to read my first completed fic! I hope you enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing it. 
> 
> For fun, you can watch the music vid and try to spot as many similarities as you can.
> 
> A big shoutout to my friends who helped edit as well as encouraged me to post it here. I love you all so much :)


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